


Hours

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Modern AU, Roadtrip, nonlinear timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 04:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: A roadtrip with the most annoying friend in your friendgroup proved to be slightly less irritating than you anticipated.





	Hours

HOUR 4

 

“There are no Cokes with Race on them,” he said with contempt. According to his bottle, he was going to be sharing a Coke with Samantha.

“I’m sure we could find one with Anthony on it, if we looked.”

“Anthony is dead. There is only Race.”

You looked back and forth between the Mountain Dew and the Slurpee machines, weighing the pros and cons of each. “What happened to Anthony?”

“He wasted away while waiting for you to make up your mind, probably.” He effortlessly dodged your elbow when you lashed out at him.

“If you’re gonna be so whiny, you can pay for the gas on your own.”

“If you’re gonna be so slow and violent, you can drive yourself,” he countered.

Your mouth shut immediately, lips spreading in an insincere smile. “Whine away, dear.”

When your group had decided to go to Niagara Falls, carpooling had been a given. Being stuck in a car alone with Race had not been, but you weren’t going to miss out on this trip just because you were trapped in a metal box with the most important person in your friend group.

“I will, babe.” He swaggered to the candy section, making sure to grab your favorites along with his own.

“Way to mooch off of my infinite funds,” you teased. “Make me buy the whole store, why don’t you?”

“Oh, I’m buying this,” he said.

“You don’t have to buy my -”

He scoffed. “Come on. I’m buying us food. I’m buying the drinks, too. Don’t argue.”

“You’re the driver! You do the driving, so I do the snacks. It’s a rule!”

“I don’t remember agreeing to any terms when I offered to drive you,” he said.

He wasn’t wrong; he had offered without asking for anything in return. “I thought - I don’t need you to buy me anything.”

“Need is such a strong word. I want to buy you food. Isn’t that good enough?”

You hated his eyes. You hated how wide they were, and how expressive they were. You hated how blue they were. You hated that you didn’t really want to say no to them. “Fine. But I am helping with the gas money.”

“All power to you, my dude.”

 

 

HOUR 1

 

“A ella le gusta la gasolina!”

Your lips were set in a permanent cringe. It had been funny when he put the song on for the first time, claiming that it was the perfect way to start a hype road trip, but it had been playing nonstop for forty-five minutes. 

“Dame más gasolina!”

If you hadn’t come, you would have had to deal with pictures of the trip all over social media. You would have regretted skipping it. You would have regretted it.

“Como le encanta la gasolina!” 

You were certainly regretting this.

“Dame más gasolina!”

“Race,” you said flatly, “I swear to God, I want to choke you.”

He stopped singing for a second, thoughtful. “Kinky. I’m not sure I’m into it, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

You grabbed his phone and ripped out the AUX cord.

“Y/N! No!”

You sighed at the blessed silence. “Y/N, yes.”

“Fine,” he said loftily. “We can just drive without music. We’ll have to experience life without good music, like heathens.”

“I’ve been living like that since this ride began,” you said.

He made a sound of offense, but you could see the delight dancing in his eyes. “You wound me.”

“An ear for an ear.”

“By the end of this trip, you’ll be a totally new person,” he promised. “You’ll have good music taste, for one thing.”

You leaned your forehead against the window, eyes flickering shut at the wonderful cold. “Good luck with that.”

 

 

HOUR 3

 

“We’re all out of candy,” he said seriously.

“We’ll be there in a few hours, and we can get real food,” you said. “You’ve been eating nonstop this entire time. You can wait.”

“I’m the driver. I decide when we stop.”

“I’m older than you. I decide when we stop.”

“You’re older by a few weeks,” he protested. “It hardly counts.”

You grinned, smug. “But it does. Drive on, fair steed.”

He looked at you, waggling his eyebrows. “Fair, huh? I knew you thought I was cute.”

“I didn’t say cute. I said fair. You have blond hair.”

“Sure, Y/N,” he crooned. He didn’t point out the fact that you couldn’t look at him now, thank goodness. There was no way he would have believed that it was because you were embarrassed at being called out, and having the conversation would only have made you more embarrassed.

To be fair, you did think he was cute. You just weren’t embarrassed about thinking so.

“We’re stopping soon,” he said firmly. “If I don’t eat, I’ll lose my mind.”

 

 

HOUR 5

 

“Put a finger down,” he insisted.

“The game is Never Have I Ever. I have never -”

“Come on,” he scoffed. “I know for a fact that when we were fourteen, you cried because Jack didn’t send you one of those Valentine carnations at school. That is a textbook example of an unrequited crush. Finger down.”

You froze. Yeah, you had, but you hadn’t thought he knew. You hadn’t been planning on telling him so, even if it was cheating. You hadn’t wanted to play this game in the first place; it was too personal. “How did you know that?”

“We’ve been friends for years,” he said. “How could I not?”

“That’s just - I never talked to people about that, so I wouldn’t have expected you to know it.”

He laughed. “Please. I noticed everybody you had a crush on. It was a big deal.”

“Why?”

“Seriously?” When you didn’t say anything, he gaped at you. The car coasted a little to the side, so he looked back at the road, but his surprise didn’t lessen. “Dude, I was totally crazy about you. I was planning on giving you a flower in person, but you were so upset about Jack that I chickened out.”

“I had no idea,” you said, numb. 

“That’s on me,” he said, matter-of-fact. “I tried to send one every year, but always came up with a reason not to.”

Four years of wanting to tell you how he felt. Four years, and now that you guys had graduated, he would never be sending you carnations on Valentine’s Day. You frowned. “Every year? Even this one?”

“Even this one.”

“You liked me for four years?”

“I’ve liked you for four years,” he said. “Now put your McFreaking finger down, Y/N.”

You did, a little numb while he did the same.

 

 

HOUR 2

 

Race had the Harry Potter audiobooks on his phone, and you had never been so surprised about anything in your life.

“You just didn’t strike me as the type to listen to books,” you said when he looked offended by your shock.

“I have trouble focusing on them when I’m holding a physical copy,” he said defensively. “If I hear them, it’s better.”

“Do you listen to a lot of books?”

“Sure. I have loads - I’m running out of space on my phone. I just thought Harry Potter might be more your speed.” He showed you his library, and he was right. It was packed. You grinned at the sight of a few of them, and it broadened when he mouthed along with the beginning of the Sorcerer’s Stone verbatim.

“So, you’re a nerd,” you said lightly. 

“No shame.”

No shame, indeed. Something about it all - the way he smiled when McGonagall showed up, and the way he made faces to match the dialogue, made you relax into your seat to watch him. The drive didn’t feel so bad, after all.

 

 

HOUR 6

 

Your fingers tapped relentlessly against your knees.

Race absently hummed the Office theme song.

You felt overly conscious of his hands. They were nice, with sharp angles and veins that were defined just so. Had you ever noticed them before? There was no way you could become so preoccupied by them after just a few hours. In the hour since his confession, he had been utterly casual, and you had felt near bursting into flames.

Race grabbed at a box of Milk Duds without looking, nodding cheerfully while he chewed.

Was it getting hot in the car? Maybe you should roll down the window. No - no, it wasn’t hot. That didn’t make any difference at all. You rolled it back up.

“Are you good?” Race shot you a sidelong look, and you realized that he was truly unbothered by everything that had happened during the day.

“No,” you said. It was meant to be a confession, an admittance, but it came out as a huff instead. You grimaced.

Race looked at you for a second longer before wordlessly pulling over. “Look, Y/N, you need to know that I’m not expecting -”

You leaned over the consol, grabbing his face and dragging it to yours. He gave a surprised sigh, but grabbed your upper arms to hold the two of you steady. His lips were a little chapped, and his grip on your arms was nearly too tight. He smiled, and when your teeth bumped a little against his, you grinned back. You wished you had thought to unbuckle - you might have climbed into his lap.

You put on a light, airy voice when you pulled away. “Oh, Anthony.”

“There it goes. The mood - it died.” Race was beaming, eyes roving over your face like he had to memorize it before the moment ended.

“So, does that mean you don’t want to kiss me again?”

“Want is such a weak word. Y/N, I really need to kiss you again,” he said.

You unbuckled.


End file.
